Page 7 of Bread with the Orc
That male sure could bake. His pastries were almost as good-looking as he was. I hadn’t been kidding when I’d told him that he should sell them.
I finished up with the loose teas—sealing them all and double-bagging them before I labeled the boxes—and moved on to the next task.
“Oh,” I whispered.
Apparently notallmy tears were gone.
With reverence, I picked up one of the cups of my mother’s tea set. It had belonged tohermother, and it had been made by the best artisans in China. I cupped it in my palms and stared down at the empty depths, remembering how she told me stories of her ancestors and their bravery in coming to a new world.
Babamight now scoff at those fairy tales, but I could remember the indulging smiles he’d given me when I’d been enthralled byAma’s stories. He had been kinder, more understanding then, before we’d lost her and each retreated in our own pain.
I twisted the porcelain gently, tracing the gold lotus design carefully with my fingertip. Once, we’d been a family. Once, we’d shared stories…and tea. Since each story was accompanied by jasmine or oolong or chrysanthemum, it was no wonder I had such a visceral connection to tea.
One day, I would tell my own children those stories. Although I hadn’t seriously dated anyone in a while, I’d always wanted kids, and had a long mental list of theskills and stories I wanted to share with them…including the Art of Tea.
Many visitors to Harmony Glen expected the Harmony Tea Shop to serve typical English tea, and I could do that, no problem. Sure, the lack of pastries and tea sandwiches greatly cut down on their bookings, but the antiques shops kept me well-supplied with dainty teacups and saucers.
But the real purpose of the shop had always been to highlight my ancestors’ history and our connection to tea. Tea shops in China weren’t just places to get a drink; they were community gathering spots, places where business was conducted, where families reconnected.That’swhat I’d wanted to build here.
“I’m sorry,Ama,” I whispered at the empty tea cup. “I’m sorry I failed to keep your stories, your memories alive.”
There was no answer, because…duh. I wasn’t an idiot, but it made me feel better to talk to her sometimes. I took a deep breath, then shifted to place the cup down?—
And darn near dropped it when the sudden rapping at the front door startled me. I wanted to snap, “We’re closed! Can’t you see the sign?” but that would serve no purpose. Instead, I carefully set down the cup and moved around the table.
My little shop was dark and closed in, not like the bakery next door. Maybe that had been part of the problem. Either way, it meant I couldn’t see who was at the door until I pulled it open.
And froze.
Dorvak.
Look, I’m no doctor, but I’ve seen plenty of crime scene investigator dramas on T.V. I’mfairlycertain your heart can’t just…stop, right? Not without killing you.
But I swear mine skipped a beat or three, and when it started again, it was going double time.
“Laney,” he said in that delicious rumble of his.
His voice seemed to reach down through my chest, straight to my lady bits, andstroke. I’d always loved his voice, but today? Maybe it was because I’d touched myself last night in bed, feeling a little guilty for imagining his hands, his tongue…but something had changed, and suddenly, I was one-hundred-percent focused onhim.
“Laney?”
“Wha?” I shook myself. “Oh! Hi! Dorvak! How are you!” Oh shit, I was sounding like a desperate puppy, wasn’t I? “I mean, come in. Can I get you something? Tea? This is a tea shop. Or it was! I make tea,” I managed with a weak laugh, backing up to allow him in.
Way to go, Laney. Very smooth.
Dorvak had followed me solemnly, and now he glanced around the space, taking in my piles of boxes and the chairs I’d struggled to stack neatly over the last few days. “Tea would be acceptable,” he finally said with a nod. “I am here to help.”
“Help?” I blurted, freezing with my finger on the button for the electric kettle. “Help me?”
Holding my gaze, he lifted one of the chairs—easily, as if it weighed nothing. “Yes. I will help you.”
“Oh!Oh, yes please, I really do need some help with the furniture! You’rewaystronger than I am!”
Dorvak glanced down at the chair in his hand, then back to me, a hint of confusion in his dark eyes. Then he nodded. “Where do you want them?”
Ahhh… “Actually, I guess you can’t do that right now. I don’t have anywhere to store them yet.”
Another nod. “Then I will help you pack.”
